I’d left my dorm room in my nicest dress — pink and brown and floral, a beloved Anthropologie sale rack find — confident that I could walk to the restaurant. But now I’m late, and I can’t move any faster: I’m in too much pain. I don’t remember how, but I must have gotten there eventually. What I do recall is that, later that night, at home, when I pulled off my prosthetic leg, my stump was bleeding. I was devastated. It was only a few blocks. Nearly 12 years on, I’m training for the New York City Marathon. I started running as an amputee seven years ago, when, on a whim, I swung by a running workshop for lower leg amputees held at Chelsea Piers in Manhattan and organized by the Challenged... Full story